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363 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 24, 2017


Maybe I did love Evie. In the same way I had loved Button. But also, in a different way. One was not a substitute for the other. My love for Evie was arresting and wistful and furious and benevolent. A swirling storm that had claimed me. There was nothing I would not do to protect her. Protect her blinded heart.
He reminded himself that his childhood days were far behind him. He was a grown up now, a man, a developmental biologist, a PhD. In the future, a tenured professor, if that was what he decided to do. Right now he was taking a slight sidestep, a year-long break from his lab to become a substitute teacher in middle school.
Too many pictures inside his brain. Too much pressure. His skull wanting to explode. When he was a boy, he would have described them all to his father. Image by image, he would tell his father what troubled him. What was building inside his mind. It was so easy then, flicking them away, cards from a scary deck. His father always took them, and said, “Just count something, War. Just count.” Warren had felt soothed, but that sensation of comfort, of security, did not last. His father was unable to hold those cards, to keep them pressed to his chest, and in the end, he gave every single one back.
Something ripped open inside my head, a thousand hands reaching up and yanking. Threads of me were screaming, but I stood, motionless, expressionless, only blinking, blinking, while a putrid cavity formed. I could not see. I could not see. I think I might have been shaking. Revulsion and disgust seeped out into my chest cavity, and I could not take a breath.